


Coming In From the Rain

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aromantic, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 01:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4244478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hadn't really expected to see Brock Rumlow again, but there he was, standing at her front door in the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming In From the Rain

Darcy was very excited when she finally moved out of the Hub. SHIELD had relocated her to the Triskelion, and she was able to buy a house in Virginia and commute to and from work every day. It made getting into work a little more of an effort, but it meant she got to do things like, you know, take a bath. Bake. And she could have friends over, which was pretty fucking fantastic.

And time away from work. That was the actual best.

It was a Friday night. Darcy was kinda debating going out, but it was _pouring_ with rain outside, and she didn't know that she really wanted to bother. She looked at where her fluffy gray cat was peacefully sleeping on the couch and shrugged. Yeah, cuddling up with Oliver and watching a movie or something really sounded like her best bet.

She was just getting settled down on the couch with an afghan when there was a knock at the door. “Who the fuck is that?” she asked Oliver. He didn't even open his eyes.

Sighing, Darcy pushed herself to her feet. It was habit to grab her sidearm off the table beside her before going to open her door, holding it back in the folds of her skirt. She worked in Intel, there was always some risk of getting snatched or something.

Her other hand unlocked the door, turning the doorknob to pull it open. And her mouth just about dropped open when she saw who was standing on the other side.

He was standing on her front porch in his SHIELD-issue shirt. The light showed water dripping from his thick, dark hair down his face and bare arms... He had to be freezing out there in the fall evening rain, but he didn't seem bothered by it.

“Brock.” Surprise would have been an understatement. “Um, come in?” She hadn't seen him since that first time they'd met. Lots of orgasms had been exchanged over those few days, but then he'd gone back out into the field, and she'd kept on keeping on.

His eyes flicked down to the hand hidden in her skirt. “That's quite the welcome.” He knew she was armed. His expression said it didn't bother him, but he knew. He made no move to come inside, though.

She shrugged. “You're not special. Everyone who shows up unannounced gets the same treatment. Never know if someone just wants to come and... take me.” Her eyebrows rose a little with the last two words, not  _quite_ a challenge.

He smirked at her words. “Guess I'd better come in, then.” He moved past her, and she closed the door behind him. Having company meant that her gun had to be locked away, though, and as Brock moved into her living room, Darcy took a side trip into her bedroom to secure the weapon in the gun safe beside her bed.

When she came out, Brock appeared to be making friends with her cat. He was leaning over, scratching behind Oliver's ears. Oliver was purring loudly enough to be heard from where she was at the edge of the room, still mostly in the hall.

“Well... I guess you do know how to make a pussy happy.”

“You're not the first person who's said that.” He smirked as he looked up at her, straightening.

“I'm surprised he's letting you touch him when you're wet, though.” She looked at where he was dripping water onto her carpet. “You want a towel?”

“Yeah.”

She walked over to the bathroom door and pushed it open, leaning down to grab a towel from under the sink. He was still standing in the same spot when she went back to the living room, and she tossed the white towel at him. He caught it with one hand. “What brings you here?” She didn't ask how he knew how to find her, that seemed a little redundant.

“Got some time off.” He reached up behind his neck and pulled the black shirt off, balling it up and tossing it across to Darcy.

She caught it, making a face when the cold, wet fabric impacted with her bare arms. “Seriously?”

Brock smirked. “I can never pass up a chance to make you wet.” He dried his hair first, rubbing the towel briskly over his head before turning his attention to his bare chest and arms.

She rolled her eyes, but she took the shirt into the bathroom, draping it over the edge of the sink. “You're not broken again, are you?” She came back out, her eyes searching over the exposed skin for any trace of injury. The scar from the bullet over his side was still shiny and fresh, but she couldn't see anything new.

“No. Just... I never did get to hear you scream.” He draped the towel easily over his shoulder and he looked up at her, eyebrow raised. “That needs to be taken care of.”

Her belly dipped at his words. “Maybe you just can't. You know, you gave it a pretty good shot.” Shrugging, she turned away, intent on where the living room opened up into the kitchen. “And don't you believe in calling first? What if I'd been out?” 

“I would have waited.” This time he followed her, she heard him moving across the carpet to join her in the kitchen. “In your room.”

“Yeah? What if I'd brought someone home?” Darcy kept her voice steady, trying not to let him know how what he was saying was affecting her. She opened up the fridge, her eyes skimming over the contents. “Want something to drink?”

“The only thing I want is you.” He was behind her, reaching around her to push the fridge closed. “And unless you brought Rogers home, I'm pretty sure I could have gotten them to leave.” His hand came to rest low on her belly, fingers stroking lightly over the smooth fabric of her skirt.

She could feel the chill of his skin as Brock pressed himself against her. “You should have a shower. Why the fuck were you out in the rain without a coat, anyway?”

His other hand pulled the hair away from the back of her neck, and he leaned over to nip at her skin. “Shower sounds good. I hope there's something in there for you to hold onto.”

Darcy found herself making her way out of the kitchen and back towards the bathroom, Brock's hand steady in the small of her back. Once inside, she leaned over the tub to turn on the water, adjusting it until it was hot enough, and turned the shower on.

He was standing in the door, towel still slung carelessly over his shoulder, and he raised his eyebrow and gave a pointed look at the shower. Darcy rolled her eyes, but she stripped down to nothing and got in, immediately moving under the hot spray.

She couldn't really hear him over the rush of water, but after just a second, the plastic shower curtain moved, and he stepped in behind her. “Fuck, you're cold!” The chill of his skin was a lot more apparent without any clothes between them. She tried to move away from him as his chest met her back, but his hand at the front of her waist stopped her.

“You'll warm me up pretty quick.” He turned them until their sides were to the spray of water, and pressed her against the wall, the tile cold against her breasts. He  _was_ warming up quickly, the hot water bringing his skin temperature up to something a lot less shocking. His hand slid down to the apex of her thighs, finding her clit and rubbing a quick tempo over it.

“You're gonna have to do a lot more than that to make me scream,” she told him. It felt good, obviously, he seemed to remember exactly how she liked to be touched, but... Not scream-worthy.

“Just getting started. I like a challenge.” His other hand ran down over the curve of her hip, then back up. “Spread your legs.” Darcy obligingly moved her feet apart to spread her legs a little. “Ass out, like you wanna be fucked.”

She rested her cheek against the tile wall, arching her back like he'd said. His words, low and raspy, were having their own effect on her body, and she couldn't help but moan a little as his hand moved over her again, this time down over her ass.

His hand slipped away, only to come up under her thigh, lifting her leg up until her foot was resting on the narrow edge of the tub. She felt Brock shift behind her, his chest sliding over her back as the water cascaded down on them, and then he was lining himself up, pushing his cock up inside her. She let out a long breath as she felt him fill her, his pelvis snug against her ass. His fingers returned to clit, pinching instead of rubbing.

“We couldn't do this last time.” He pulled back slowly, then slammed up into her. “I think you just need a good, hard fuck.” He'd been pulling out again as he was speaking, the last word was gritted out as he rammed into her again, and she cried out.

Her fingers dug into the wall, there was nothing to grab onto. He set an almost-punishing rhythm, and she pushed back against him as best she could in her precarious position, relying on the press of his body and his arm under her leg to keep her from falling.

Brock was pinching her clit in time to his thrusts, the sharp sensation intense enough that it bordered pain. Her breasts jarred against the tile, friction pulling against her sensitive nipples. His other arm was braced against the tile beside her head, and her caught her long hair, winding it around his hand and tugging until she bent her head down.

His stubble was sharp against her neck as his lips closed over the tender skin, drawing it up into his mouth. He was probably going to leave a mark, but Darcy was riding so much sensation that she didn't care.

Mewling sounds were escaping her lips as he pushed her higher and higher, his cock roughly, almost brutally, pounding into her. “I can feel your cunt getting tight. You gonna scream for me?” He pushed up into her again. “Scream for me.” His teeth closed in the side of her neck, and that brought the world shattering around her. She screamed, fingers pushing against the tile.

He made a contented noise deep in his chest that practically vibrated against her. His fingers slipped away from her clit, his hand instead gripping the bottom of her thigh. His mouth moved over her neck as he fucked into her, and it was only another couple dozen more strokes before he was burying himself deep inside her, his body going rigid behind her as he came.

Darcy lifted her head from the shower wall, and realized that the water was starting to get a little cold. “We should get out.”

He lowered her foot carefully back to the floor of the tub, and turned around to shut the water off. They were both a little shaky as they stepped out onto the fluffy bathmat, and Darcy bent down to get fresh towels from under the sink. After passing one to him, she dried off as best she could, wrapping the towel around her body. “You staying?” Her eyebrows went up and she rested her hands on her hips, trying to convey that she didn't care if he did or not. She wanted him to.

Brock reached out and untucked her towel, pulling it free and dropping it on the floor before he stepped into her, his hands falling to rest on her ass as he pulled her close. “Yeah. I got you a couple days off too, seems like it would be a waste if I just left.”

She leaned back and peered up at him, but decided she probably didn't want to know how he'd managed that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Style, by Taylor Swift. OMG this song.


End file.
